


Five Hundred Fifty One

by placentalmammal



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Other, Sexual Roleplay, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 16:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11604303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: Mako misses Cass, and in the Mesh, Ted can make himself look like anything.





	Five Hundred Fifty One

**Author's Note:**

> this one goes out to the sad bastards in the fuck discord

When Mako looks up, it’s not Ted sitting next to him, it’s Cass. Or at least, a simulacrum of them, a reasonable approximation. The drone projects Cass’ image onto Ted’s body, and Mako’s trembling when Ted reaches out to touch him. “Let me,” he says, and his voice is still his own, even though his face belongs to someone else.

Still shaking, he nods, and Ted’s hand settles on his knee. Mako stares fixedly at it, scarcely daring to breathe, but then Ted puts his other hand on his jaw and lifts his face. He kisses him, and it is  _ nothing _ like kissing Cass--they were never so soft, never so hesitant. Cass kissed with purpose, same way they did everything else. In love and in war, they never did anything they didn’t mean to.

Ted is fumbling, awkward, the same as he was when they were kids and hooking up at house parties. He hasn’t changed. He still looks at Mako the same way.

Breathing hard, Mako lies back and tries not to think about it--he looks up at Cass’ face and his vision blurs with tears. He gasps when Ted touches him through his pants, palming his erection while he struggles one-handed with his belt. “Lift your hips,” he says, and his voice grates in Mako’s ears.

“Don’t talk,” he says, hands twisting in his shirt. “Just--just don’t.”

His face--and the image of Cass he’s wearing over it--crumples. He opens his mouth and closes it again, and for a moment, Mako thinks that he’s going to drop the illusion and storm out of the room.

The moment passes. His shoulders slump. “Yeah, alright,” he says, and he pulls Mako’s pants down, letting them fall noiselessly to the floor. Ted takes Mako in hand and bends to kiss him again, harder this time. And it’s not the same, but it’s _something_ , and Mako responds with enthusiasm, groaning and surging up against the other man. He hooks one leg around Ted’s and pulls him down, kissing him roughly, canting his hips up to thrust into his hand.

Ted-as-Cass pulls back and Mako sits up halfway, chasing his lips. Ted pushes him back down and reaches for the cabinet built into the wall over the bed. Instead of resisting, Mako studies him, seeking imperfections. It’s a good likeness except--

\--except that Ted’s hard, pants tented over his erect dick, and it’s  _ wrong _ . Cass doesn’t have a cock.

Mako closes his eyes and lays still, chest rising and falling rapidly as he waits for Ted to touch him again. He’s so hard, aching for it, and he nearly cries from relief when he feels Ted’s slick fingers circling his entrance. He pushes in, just one finger to start with, and Mako gasps, breath rushing out of him all at once. “Please,” he moans, “please--”

Another finger, and he’s being scissored open. His cock twitches on his belly and he clutches at the headboard. Cass always told him not to touch himself while they worked. Ted hasn’t spoken since Mako told him not to.

Mako touches himself like this all the time; it doesn’t take long for Ted to open him up enough to fuck him. Panting, Mako sits up halfway to watch him rolling the condom on. He groans and his head falls back against the mattress. Ted takes him by the waist and hauls him closer, lining himself up with one hand. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, and Mako doesn’t hear his groan over his own needy gasps.

He looks up at Ted through his lashes and he sees Cass. He stares fixedly at their face and at this point, it’s easy to pretend. He’s good for Ted like he was good for Cass, cock straining, hands on the headboard over his head. He begs, like he begged for Cass, clumsy and inarticulate in his desperation.

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. “Please!”

“Say my name,” they pant, slamming into him, “say my name.”

“Cass,” Mako breathes, “Cass, Cass, Cass--”

“ _ My _ name.” Their voice is strained. “Say  _ my  _ name, my  _ real  _ name _.” _

“Cassander--”

They go stiff, they shudder, and then they’re pulling out. Mako looks up in time to see the illusion flickering and fading and Ted standing over him, shaking his head. He’s going soft, but Mako’s still hard and when he reaches up for him, Ted slaps his hands away. He turns away and drops the condom in the wastebasket, then stoops to gather up his discarded clothing.

“Ted,” he begins, but the other man isn’t listening. He pulls sweatpants up to his hips and storms out the door, which snaps shut behind him, leaving Mako alone again.

**Author's Note:**

>  _he doesn't make me happy, but he helps to still the shakes_ ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gt-HbrvzKc))


End file.
